Otherwise
by BlazeInfinity
Summary: Every decision has consequences, good and bad. Jon/Ygritte. Rated M because, well. You know.


**Well. I'm not yet done with **_**Never the End**_**, but nevertheless, Martin has inspired me so much I simply cannot restrain myself from writing this.**

**Funny story really, how this came into being. I actually just now read A Storm of Swords; I'd known the plot beforehand, too. Nevertheless, the awesome way Martin wrote it, I kept hoping until the end that the internet had made some sort of mistake - that Jon did **_**not **_**go back to Castle Black, that he did not leave Ygritte. When I finally reached the end, my reaction was, at first, "AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH". Then, after hitting my pillow with a fist repetitively in anger, I decided on a better reaction.**

"**SCREW YOU I HAVE FANON."**

**Now, old fans of mine (shyeah, there totally are such people on the face of the earth) might notice this chapter is rather… really short for a chapter of a story written by me. I certainly have noticed and I'm disappointed in myself, really. WORD COUNT WHY YOU SO SMALL.**

**And there is the (relatively necessary) note that I don't know if there'll be other chapters. This was written on a bit of a spur of the moment, you know, so while I planned this as something of a multi-chapter story, I don't quite know if I'll be able to write any other chapters. There's Never the End and all the other junk I have to work on, too. So, we'll see. Mostly from the readers' reaction.**

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><p>"He must die."<p>

Jon drew Longclaw rather slowly. Hesitated. He could not look into the cold accusing eyes of the man before him, and wanted nothing more than to avoid this task right now. And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse…

"Do it, Jon Snow," Ygritte said, something of a trepidation in her voice. Jon thought he knew why. This was one of those moments; those core moments in life when a single decision may mean life, death… or in this case, a thing more important than both. "T' prove you're no crow, but one o' the free folk. _Do it._"

Jon wanted to curse, loudly. How could she do this, leave him no other choice? He knew what was right… but he couldn't make such a choice. He shrieked inarticulately, quickly, painlessly cutting the man's throat from ear to ear.

The look on Styr's face was a very malicious, dark smile, tinted with just a bit of surprise. Not that Jon cared at this precise moment in time. The Magnar of Thenn could make whatever strange faces he wanted to. He looked in Ygritte's eyes, and found, to his eternal surprise, what he hoped for; she looked almost sorry. Certainly sympathetic. _She knows me, _Jon came to the conclusion, _better than anyone else._

Styr said something, but Jon didn't particularly care. He sheathed Longclaw and took a step towards Ygritte, taking her hand and drawing her away from the other wildlings, to the shore of the lake where they sat before Magnar called for him. He really needed her right now.

"I saw his eyes," Jon told her later as they, despite the heavy rain, lied beside each other on that shore. He knew that no one but her would understand him. "They were cold, so cold..." he literally shivered now. Ygritte nuzzled her hair against his neck. "They told me, 'Jon Snow, you traitor. You'd promised to be the shield that guards the realms of men. What are you doing? Do you give any moment of thought to the family I have back home? To my wife, my children, my grandchildren, who'll never see me again?' … And he never closed them. Never." Jon's fists clenched, tears appeared on his face.

Ygritte wiped them aside, quickly. "Jon, you're no crow no more. You don't have t' be bound by that guilt anymore."

"I'm no crow no more…" Jon faintly whispered. "Still thinking if I made the right choice."

"You know _nothing, _Jon Snow. Would the gods 've let you steal me if you hadn't?" she drew closer, and kissed him lightly on the lips. He kissed her back, but remained still nevertheless.

"Jon," she whispered, and, Jon noted, didn't call him 'Snow' for the first time in… history. "Don't think o' choices you made. I want you should think o' how after, we'll come back here and live in that tower. We'll have an apple orchard, an' a hundred rooms all to ourselves, an' a great many children who'll be born in that tower like lords; we'll have this whole lake, we'll teach our children t' swim like me… you're not too bad either. And then when night falls…" she grinned mischievously. Jon had no choice but to go harder than rock when her hand started stroking his shaft. "When night falls, we'll have the pick o' the hundred rooms. There ain't have to be a bed, sweet, either… I've heard stories 'bout southron lords who love their ladies in the strangest places."

"Like where?" Jon couldn't help but grin even though he was so hard it was painful. Ygritte slightly bit his neck, as she tended to do. Snow couldn't help it anymore. He kissed her, a long, passionate kiss as they struggled each other out of their clothes.

"Does on the shore o' a lake in the middle o' storm count?" she said, or rather, gasped in the brief period while her lips were at least _a little_ further away from his. She took off her undershirts, threw them all aside. Jon sat up to kiss the breasts he'd grown so fond of – only second to Ygritte herself. She let out a slight moan, pushed him back on the ground, and straddled him, reaching for his smallclothes that she rather impatiently slipped him out of. Her own pants he pulled down, finding that she had nothing underneath. "Yessssss, Jon Snow," she moaned into his ear, quietly, as he entered her, "You know much by now, ohhhh yes. Yes! Harder… yesssss. Ohhhh, you've learnt much, 'aven't you? Just a bit harder… yes. Yes. Yes!"

Jon'd made a choice. He chose his love for Ygritte over his love for honor and justice. He couldn't leave now, not ever – it was foolish to pretend he could ever get to Castle Black first. They'd be there together, altogether, him and his wildling raiders, and under Styr's supervision they'd slaughter every living thing before they could realize that they're being attacked. They'd open the gates for Mance Rayder, and the wildlings would flood the north.

Worse, now he was one of them. There was no turning back; it would've been ludicrous pretending his murder of that old man in the village meant nothing and was done only to prove a point, just as ludicrous as it was pretending he slept with Ygritte only to prove a point, as he had thought so the first time. He couldn't help it; every step he took when she was around was filled with an immense desire to have her, independent of where they were and what time it was. He could not bring himself to not do anything she asked for, and she asked him to make the choice in her favor. Only that way could he have her.

_If Mance writes me into any of his songs, he'd better mention that I only fought this war for the woman I loved. I'm a lovesick young fool… I can't help it._

"I love you," he whispered quietly to Ygritte as they lay quiet again, quite unchanged from how they looked before when they lied there and talked, except, now they were naked.

Ygritte kissed him lightly on the cheek, her expression one full of bliss. "I love you as well, sweet. I love you even if we die from a crow's blade tomorrow, or the day after, or after, an' I love you even if our dream o' a home, for just the two o' us, will never come true. I belong t' no man but you, and you belong t' no woman but me. Now and forever."

"Now and forever," nodded Jon as he nuzzled her beautiful fire-red hair.


End file.
